


From Within The Cage

by LynxRyder



Category: Marvel (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Folklore, Gen, Imprisonment, Loki muses, Post-Avengers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynxRyder/pseuds/LynxRyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki reads and muses in his Asgardian prison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Within The Cage

**Author's Note:**

> Written purely because I am ridiculously excited about the Dark World trailer.

 

                The magical barrier that kept him caged flickered blue drawing Loki's attention away from the book on his lap. It was not a new phenomenon and though it used to keep him from losing himself in any distracting activity Loki had grown used to it after a few weeks. The periodic pulsing of the magical energy only attracted his attention now when he was feeling particularly bored. The light settled, the barrier shifting back to its almost transparent state. Loki flexed his left hand. Nothing happened. Not that he had expected anything. Odin would not be keeping him so close to the heart of the palace if he was not absolutely sure that he had found a way to utterly suppress all of Loki's magical ability. Well, not quite all. Occasionally Loki found himself able to levitate a goblet from the table to his hand. If the object was sufficiently small and he was feeling particularly strong these tiny acts of defiance could be accomplished. Still, they were parlour tricks, that was all, hardly a reason to rejoice.

                Loki closed the book with a thud and threw it down onto the floor. It had the unstimulating title of 'The Folklore of the Northern Territories'. Page after page of villages rampaged by angry giants and trolls turning to stone in the first light of dawn. Loki had not been interested in such stories as a child and he certainly was not now. As it was by far the most interesting volume available to him, however, it was only a matter of time before he started it again from the beginning.

                Loki sighed, the sound swiftly swallowed up by the pure silence that surrounded him. Sometimes, when the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears became too loud, Loki was forced to stand and walk back and forth until the rhythm of his own footsteps calmed him down again. He had not yet resorted to talking to himself though he supposed it was only a matter of time. No doubt seeing him break like that would provide no small measure of amusement to Thor.

                Thor was the only one who visited him with any regularity. Frigga made sporadic appearances, her face pinched as if the very sight of her adopted son pained her. She asked him questions:   _Are you okay? Do you need anything? Will you look at me? Will you talk to me, Loki? Will you explain to me why you did what you did?_

                Loki never spoke to her. If she wanted him to apologise or to give her a chance at salvation then she was destined to be deeply disappointed. He would not go so far as to say that he blamed her for the twisted lies that had polluted every part of his childhood but she certainly was not guiltless. Her pretence at loving concern was poisonous and Loki would not fall under its spell.

                Thor's visits were different. He did not demand answers. Sometimes he spent the whole time in silence, his face set in that dreadfully serious expression he seemed to have adopted as standard. Occasionally, when Loki felt motivated to break the deadlock, they managed to have a civil conversation though the many things they steered clear of talking about leant a very forced aspect to the whole enterprise. No doubt in an attempt to have him accept responsibility for his actions Thor often ended his visits with updates from Heimdall who had been directed to keep a specially close eye on Midgard. Loki's attention often waned at this point. Memories of the destruction he and the Chitauri army had wrought still gave him a sense of pride. He might not have accomplished his ultimate aim but he had wounded, he had scarred, and there was satisfaction in that. Most recently Thor had let slip that Tony Stark, the man of iron, was experiencing some sort of personal crisis. Loki had been amused but not at all surprised. Stark had visited him after his capture, they all had, each Avenger wanting to look him in the eye and put their fears to rest, but it was Stark who had laid it on the thickest, his swagger and his quips more pronounced than ever, an act that was wearing thin even then. Oh yes, Loki had seen the cracks forming. The man of iron was just a man after all.

                Feeling cheered by this recollection, Loki stood up and stretched. As monotonous as it was, his imprisonment was far from the worst thing that had happened to him. In many ways, when taken in the context of the last few years, his situation could be considered a vast improvement. No Chitauri warriors waiting for orders. No demands on his sorcery that he was barely able to fulfil. No Thanos. It was this last thought that sent a shudder right through Loki's soul prompting him to move on swiftly.

                He was provided for in more than a basic sense, his food and drink plentiful, his bed comfortable, even the reading material and other meagre distractions were more than most prisoners might expect. And he was safe. This was by far the most significant difference. Thor, and by extension Odin, had guaranteed his safety. Yes, there had been a tiresomely long lecture on what hideous punishments he could expect should he attempt to escape or manipulate or otherwise influence events in his favour but Loki had not wasted much time dwelling on that. The important thing was that the enchanted barriers that kept him in also served the purpose of keeping others out.

                The barrier flashed again, blue light cascading downwards. Loki took a step closer. He did not need to press his hands against it to ascertain the barriers strength, he could sense it. It was much like having a blindfold pressed across his eyes or hands pressed over his ears, a magical sense denied. Loki had noticed that the barrier often flashed in this way before Thor's arrival. Perhaps his power served to strengthen it or perhaps the All Father had ensured that the magic was at its most potent when his beloved son was in the presence of his stolen one. Loki had never tried but he strongly suspected that even the simple magic of which he was still capable would be impossible in the presence of Thor.

                For a while Loki waited but neither Thor nor anyone else made an appearance. Loki was rather disturbed to discover that he was disappointed. Perhaps imprisonment was wearing on him rather more severely than he had previously thought. Still, his own feelings aside, it was unusual for Thor to spend longer than a week without coming to see him. Automatically Loki attempted to detect the current of energy in the palace, something he had learned to do so long ago that it was hard to stop trying, but the barrier sent his own efforts back at him making him wince. Pointless to try again. Without his magic Loki had no way of knowing what was going on around him. It was an extension of the silence, an impenetrable cage for his mind.

                With nothing better to do Loki returned to the bench he had vacated and picked up the book on folklore again. Settling it on his lap he opened it to the page he had last read. The Tale of the Fossegrimen and the Fiddle Player was next. He was pretty sure he could have recited it word for word backwards if asked. Perhaps even the benefits of being safe were beginning to be overwhelmed by this grating, endless boredom.

                With another sigh, a little more self-pitying than the last, Loki let the sickeningly familiar words focus once more. The fiddle player's persistent demands never failed to irritate him but what really got to him was the Fossegrimen's tolerant attitude. Why should such a being share its musical gift with so unworthy a creature? Loki placed his hand over the illustration of the fiddle player receiving his first lesson obliterating it from view. He had no power to change the story but it was some comfort to know that when the time came he knew exactly how he wanted it to end. All he had to do was wait.

 


End file.
